


Burning A Flashlight

by floral_mime



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, I Think Constantly About The Flashlight Scene, M/M, Minor Swearing, Overworking, Ritsu Comforts Mao, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28093467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floral_mime/pseuds/floral_mime
Summary: The idea of being a flashlight deluded into believing it could be a star is eating Mao from the inside out, but he keeps on that stupid grin and pretends he's fine. After a particularly stressful practice, Ritsu gets an idea of how Mao really feels and decides to comfort him and remind him of his worth.
Relationships: Isara Mao/Sakuma Ritsu
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	Burning A Flashlight

Maybe Mao wasn’t cut out for this type of work. Nagisa Ran’s voice echoed in his head as he and Ritsu walked home from school. It was later than normal, but both of their units had called for extra practice that day. Knights had a small event set up for the weekend and Trickstar… Well, Trickstar had to keep at it.

It had still felt bad when everyone else had to go home. Yuuki and Hokuto had work to do and Subaru said he was just too tired to keep going for the day. As each one left, Mao waved them off with a smile, saying he’d keep practicing just to make sure he got things right. They all smiled and made comments about what a hard worker he was or how much he kept himself occupied before they left. Then, Mao was left to keep practicing on his own.

 _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. One, two, three, four, five- Fuck!_ He stumbled on a turn and felt a ball of frustration build up inside him. He muttered profanities at himself before going back into his starting position. _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. One- Damn it!_ He made the wrong move, and managed to mess up even earlier than last time. _Idiot._ He determined he wouldn’t accept his own work until he got everything perfect. No going home until he got the steps right. _One, two, three, four-_ He messed up. _One, two, three, four, five, six-_ He was too early. _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight._ Where was the sparkle? The shine? He looked like a kid dancing with their favourite character on TV, not an idol. A flashlight, not a star.

The frustration inside him felt like a supernova, set to eat out his insides and destroy him if he couldn’t get it right. The stress probably didn’t help his performances, but that didn’t stop him from putting so much pressure on himself. _He didn’t deserve gentle treatment._ He made it to the end of the song before he landed on the wrong foot for the finishing pose. If his teammates had been with him, he would have kicked Yuuki, and the thought of getting so close before failing made his balled fists shake with anger. The only thing keeping him from screaming was his distrust of how soundproof the walls could be. 

He crouched down to the music player to start the song over when he heard a rapping against the door frame. “Maakun,” a quiet voice murmured. “Are you done yet?”

They had walked in silence since. It was later than Mao expected, and he doubted Knights would force their members to stay so late, which meant Ritsu probably watched him work so hard that some of his hair slipped out from the clip and still not get it right. That knowledge between them kept the air tense, though when Mao looked at his boyfriend’s face, he just looked sleepy. 

“It’s cold,” he said softly. Mao nodded slightly, hardly engaged with what he was saying. Ritsu leered at him as they continued to walk. “When it’s cold, Maakun always lets me hold onto him to keep warm.”

Ah, right. He hadn’t held his hand this whole time. Mao must have been pretty lost in thought. He mumbled an apology and extended a hand for Ritsu to take. His fingers laced between Mao’s and he held it tight. He hummed happily to himself and a smile graced his lips. “Maakun’s hand is so warm today,” he mused before glancing at Mao from the side of his eyes. “You must have been working extra hard today.”

“Yeah, we had extra practice today,” Mao said flatly. He wasn’t in the mood to lie to Ritsu, but he also didn’t want to explain that he was the only one taking so much extra time just to get one song down. 

Ritsu hummed again. “But I already knew that. You were so sweaty, I couldn’t ask for you to carry me,” he bemoaned in a teasing voice, watching Mao as if waiting for him to smile back at him. “I don’t want to get all wet and sticky from riding on your back all the way home.”

Mao nodded again. “I’m not even sure I could carry you today. I’m… pretty exhausted,” he said. They rounded a corner and his foot hit something, sending him into a stumble. Mao squeezed Ritsu’s hand and found his balance, but he wanted to curse himself out. He knew this path like the back of his hand, and somehow got caught up on a raised section of pavement? Maybe it was a good thing Ritsu didn’t want to be carried; at this rate, Mao could hardly support himself, much less his fragile boyfriend.

“Are you okay?” Ritsu asked. As he did, Mao’s grip on his hand loosened. If he was frustrated, he could deal with himself later. No need to take anything out on Ritsu.

“I’m fine.”

Mao started walking again, causing Ritsu to move with him to keep up and keep their hands together. The Sakuma household was only a moment away, and they walked the rest of their path in silence, not even glancing at the other. As they reached the doorstep, Ritsu’s grip on his hand tightened. “Would you mind coming inside?” he asked, fumbling for his key with his free hand. 

Mao sighed. “You need help with something?” He considered, since he probably had class work he was neglecting if Yuuki and Hokuto did. But the look in Ritsu’s eyes triumphed over any of that concern. “Alright,” he said. “I won’t be long, though, deal?”

Ritsu nodded and opened the door. They both stepped in and their hands separated, instead taking on the tasks of changing into house shoes. Mao followed Ritsu to his room, a path he knew well but still felt awkward to lead. When they entered his room, darkly coloured but still somehow welcoming, Ritsu flopped down on the bed. Mao closed the door behind him and walked to where Ritsu lay.

“I’m ti~red,” he whined softly. “Maakun shouldn’t ever be that sweaty again. Walking all on my own is so exhausting.”

“Well how tired do you think I feel with the extra weight of you on my back?” Mao retorted, a slight smile creeping onto his face. He felt awful, physically and emotionally, but hearing Ritsu’s voice was almost guaranteed to lift his spirits at least a little bit. Mao moved to sit on the edge of the bed, looking at his boyfriend’s face as he looked back up at him.

“I would think you’d feel honoured. I don’t let just anyone carry me to school, you know. You’re a special case.”

He glanced away at that comment, as though the wall could help him not overthink a comment like that. “I’m not special, you know, just convenient. It’s not like you have any stronger friends living around you.” Although Mao spoke in a light, almost joking tone, Ritsu looked at him with concern on his face. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that.

Ritsu started sitting up. “What’s wrong?” he asked, putting his hand on top of Mao’s and squeezing it slightly.

Mao swallowed and shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he said. He couldn’t burden Ritsu with such a stupid, petty issue. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be a bummer, I’m just exhausted.” It was an easy, shallow lie. One he knew Ritsu would see right through, but would hopefully deter him from going any further. Mao didn’t know how long he could last with that kind of attention before he’d break down and share everything.

Of course, Ritsu wasn’t satisfied with just ‘exhausted.’ He looked at Mao, who still wouldn’t look exactly at him. “Maakun… I want you to be okay with leaning on me…” Mao’s expression looked pained, or possibly stressed, but it looked worse because he was clearly trying to keep it from showing. Gently, Ritsu’s free hand reached up and removed his hair clip. He set it down and returned to his hair, lightly ruffling it to put down the sections that had stayed in the clip throughout his practice. He looked a little less stressed when it all went together. 

Mao glanced at Ritsu from the corner of his eye, and Ritsu took it as a cue to keep talking to his boyfriend. “You don’t have to talk about what’s on your mind if you don’t want to, but I hate seeing you like this,” he said. It was a line he had stolen from Mao, who was more often the one comforting him.

Mao nodded slightly. “I know,” he said, all of the joking tone from earlier gone. “I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about it. I wouldn’t want to be invited in just to make a scene.”

He felt a slight tug on his arm, as if Ritsu wanted his attention. “Do you have anything you want to talk about?” he asked is a more pressing voice as Mao turned to look at him.

How was he supposed to respond to that? _‘I realised I will never be good enough to reach my dreams?’ ‘I’m so plain and replaceable it’s a wonder anyone keeps me around?’ ‘I have no worth as a person?’_ All of those would be too much for him to saddle Ritsu with, so instead he shook his head. 

Ritsu hummed, a little discontent, before tugging again at Mao’s arm. He used enough force to pull Mao to the side, his head landing on his shoulder. His hand left Mao’s to instead reach up to his head, lazily playing with his hair. “If you won’t tell me, I guess I just have to say what I think you need to hear.” 

Mao was in a bit of shock from even being pulled over, but he was even less prepared to hear “You need to give yourself more credit for the work you do.” The way Ritsu held him when he said that, it felt as though Ritsu meant to send the message straight to his very core. His body relaxed, releasing tension he hadn’t realised he’d built up. 

“I saw you working so hard… You don’t need to overwork yourself, Maakun. You’re more skilled than you realise. I think you make up issues with your own work. You’re a stupid perfectionist, you know.” His finger gently twisted a section of Mao’s hair. “Take more breaks so you don’t get stressed over the little details only you catch. You’ll still stand out, even if you rest.”

Each word seemed to shoot straight into Mao. Ritsu always had a good intuition, but he always seemed to know just how to pick him apart. He wouldn’t be surprised to learn his boyfriend was a psychic. The supernova of stress that had been eating at him seemed to be doused by his words, being reduced to a smaller, more manageable flame. Mao felt a dull pressure at the back of his eyes and pressed further into where Ritsu’s shoulder and neck met. 

“You’re more than the work you do, too,” Ritsu continued. That was when a tear actually escaped Mao’s eye. “No one’s going to love you any less if you take breaks. I wouldn’t love you less even if you didn’t carry me everywhere.” His hand had fallen into a rhythm, as though gently petting Mao’s head. “Maakun is so amazing on his own. You don’t have to do anything to prove your worth. You’re already important.”

He couldn’t even stop himself. Before he knew it, Mao was crying into his boyfriend’s shoulder. He knew he was supposed to be the strong one, there to protect Ritsu, but his hand on the back of his head seemed to keep him from feeling bad about breaking like this. The boys sat with the muffled sound of Mao trying to get himself back together as Ritsu played with his hair. 

After a few minutes of what probably looked like an uncomfortable scene to anyone outside the two of them, Mao raised his head, wiping some of the wet spots on his face. Ritsu chuckled. “Maakun is such an ugly crier~” he teased. 

Mao shoved him playfully. “Says you,” he said with a lame sniffle. “I’ve known you since you were a kid. You haven’t always been that cute.” 

Ritsu hummed happily, seemingly glad that Mao was in joking spirits once again. He leaned in and wiped a wet part of Mao’s face with his thumb. “Will you… tell me about what’s going on?” he asked quietly, inches from Mao’s face.

Mao smiled a bitter smile, averting his eyes. Despite just crying on him moments ago, the weight of Mao’s self-loathing still felt like too much to put on Ritsu. “Maybe, but not right now… I think I still need to get myself figured out. But if I need you again, I won’t be crying for a mystery reason, I promise. I’ll tell you eventually.”

It was enough of a promise for Ritsu, though he did start to complain that he couldn’t wait since he wasn’t nearly as patient as Mao, to which Mao remarked that it might serve an ‘immortal being’ well to learn some patience. 

Before long, Mao glanced at his phone and caught the time. It was later than he realised. “I had promised not to stay long,” he sighed, showing Ritsu the clock too. Ritsu responded by throwing his arms over Mao’s shoulders and pulling him into a hug.

Mao smiled and pressed his lips against Ritsu’s, giving him a small but loving kiss. Despite always being so cold, there was a warmth and tenderness to his kiss. Ritsu rested his chin on Mao’s shoulder and murmured “Take good care of yourself,” into his ear.

Mao held him close, giving him a light pat on the back of his head. “Don’t worry about me, Ritchan. I’ll make sure I stay okay for you.” He loosened his arms and Ritsu took the cue to pull back. When he looked, he could still see that Mao had been crying not too long ago, but his words sounded sincere. 

Ritsu let go of him to pick up his boyfriend’s hair clip and hand it back to him. “I love you,” he said as Mao started towards the door.

He paused and looked back with a brighter smile than Ritsu had seen him with all day. “I love you too. And… thank you, Ritchan.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! Mao and I share the same enneagram type and let me tell you: being type 2 is a disease. I never see enough angst exploiting that fact, so I had to take it upon myself.


End file.
